First Star
by Cirdan
Summary: Voronwe thinks back to Cirdan and Ereinion Gil-galad as he leads Tuor toward Gondolin. Bday fic for Starlight.


Standard disclaimer: All the characters, locations, some quotes, and the initial conception of this world belong to J.R.R. Tolkien, whether it be from Lord of the Rings, The Silmarillion, Unfinished Tales, or The History of Middle-earth Volumes I-XII.  
  
Dedication: This is a birthday fic for Starlight (May 30).  
  
.  
  
First Star  
  
"I came at last to the Sea, last of the messengers of Turgon to Cirdan. One ship only was yet full-wrought. Still, it was lovely to behold. I looked into the dark eyes of the swan's head set at the prow of the great white ship and thought for a moment that I was staring into the fabled seeing-stones of Feanor. It seemed to me that the swanship held my future in its eyes."  
  
As we traveled northward, I went on to tell Tuor about the horrors of the Sea, but I did not tell him what had happened just before I set off on my errand for Turgon.  
  
---  
  
Voronwe came down to the pier once more to look upon the beautiful swanship that the Shipwrights of Cirdan had newly completed. Strangely enough, it reminded Voronwe of Gondolin, the white city in Tumladen that he called home.  
  
"I'm ready," Voronwe said to his ship. "I've learned all I can from the mariners, and I am at last ready to face the Sea."  
  
"Tomorrow morning will be the naming ceremony." Voronwe started and turned to find Cirdan the Shipwright. His footfalls were softer than the foam of the waves. Whether he had come from inspecting the ship or arisen from the very crests of the waters, Voronwe did not know. Though they were said to be kinsmen, Voronwe had found little in common with Cirdan during his stay at the Isle of Balar save their love for the Sea in their blood. "Have you thought of a name for her yet?" Cirdan asked when Voronwe had calmed.  
  
"I have, Lord Cirdan," Voronwe said.  
  
"And what will she be named?" he asked.  
  
"White Wing."  
  
Cirdan looked to the swanship. "A suitable name. Your fate is, indeed, tied to the White Wing. The Feast of Departure is finished. After the mariners rest the day and the ship is named, you will set sail."  
  
Voronwe nodded. All this he knew, yet he was still nervous, and perhaps these last reminders were meant only to calm his growing nerves. This would be his first great voyage out to the wide seas. He had sailed with Cirdan's mariners on shorter journeys along the coasts of Beleriand. But this voyage was different. Valinor was fenced from the Noldor, and it was rumored among the Falathrim that a necklace of enchanted isles had been set about Valinor and that the seas about those isles were filled with shadows and bewilderment. Even if the Shadowy Seas existed in truth and not in tales alone, Voronwe was determined to try to reach the West.  
  
"Oftentimes, a mariner is long sundered from his kinsmen and friends during his voyage out to sea. You have feasted and made merriment for three days, and now, if you have not, you had best say your farewells." All this Cirdan said calmly, but Voronwe did not miss the note of sorrow in the mariner's voice. Voronwe thought he knew the reason for it: none of the ships that had set out on Turgon's errand had ever returned.  
  
"I have said my good-byes," Voronwe said at last. "They were said in the Hidden Kingdom of Turgon ere I left."  
  
"Then look once more upon the peoples of Balar," Cirdan advised. "You will have many long days to stare at White-wing, but less is the time for you to gaze upon those kin for whom you seek to aide from the Lords of the West."  
  
"I will do as you bid." Voronwe tore his gaze from the mesmerizing eyes of his swanship and looked to the Shipwright. "I thank you, Cirdan, for all that you have done for me and my people. Without you, such a fine and stout vessel could not have been crafted."  
  
Cirdan shook his head and rested his hand against the side of the ship. It was said among his people that he could hear the thoughts and feel the life of every ship that was built. For a moment, Voronwe thought it true, for Cirdan closed his eyes briefly and seemed to be speaking in his mind to White-wing.  
  
"There is no need to thank me," Cirdan said, and his voice was like a thick grey mist. "Your mother was of my kin."  
  
Voronwe watched as Cirdan left to walk along the rocky coast. Yet my father was of the Kinslayers, Voronwe said silently to himself. But he did not regret his Noldorin heritage. He looked once more at his ship then returned to town to bid his kin farewell.  
  
That night, when sleep seemed impossible, Voronwe rose and walked about the quiet town. It was nothing like fair Gondolin. Most of the houses of Balar were made of wood, and rarely were the houses even built with two stories. The town seemed frail and ephemeral. Gondolin, on the other hand, was built mostly of stone. Strongest of all was the Tower of the King, and it stood so tall that Voronwe had thought as a child that King Turgon could collect the very stars from the skies from its topmost chamber.  
  
Nay, I do not sail West only for the Noldor, Voronwe reminded himself. I will not only beg pardon for the Noldor, but also, I will ask for mercy upon the Sindar and succor in their need. Though it is Turgon who sent me forth, I will seek to deliver an errand for Two Kindreds.  
  
"Voronwe?" Voronwe whirled around to find the young Prince of the Noldor standing before him in plain grey raiment. For a moment, Voronwe's heart ached. If Ereinion had been in Gondolin, he would have been outfitted in the finest silks with gold and silver embroidery, and jewels would have identified his high status. Ereinion's eyes narrowed slightly as he read Voronwe's mind.  
  
"Don't pity me," young Ereinion said in a surprisingly calm voice. "I adorn myself thus of my own choosing, not because I do not possess finer clothing. It does not seem right to me to garb myself richly when my people are suffering."  
  
At those words, Voronwe realized that there was more wisdom in the young prince than he had first suspected. He regretted that they had not become better acquainted before this time, but Ereinion had been lending military aid to Nargothrond at Cirdan's behest and had only newly returned.  
  
"I regret that I will be leaving tomorrow," said Voronwe, "for I would very much like to get to know you better."  
  
"We may yet have time later," Ereinion said. "We are both of the House of Fingolfin, so I wished to give you my most precious gift before you departed."  
  
"You need not give me anything," Voronwe objected.  
  
"You will need this," Ereinion said somberly. "When I was younger, Cirdan once said to me that there is no Star of Hope, but one day there will be. Cirdan has foresight touching all matters of importance, so I do not doubt that he is right, though I do not know what he means. But because there is no such star, he gave to me a song to sing when I despaired. He said to sing it to the First Star."  
  
Ereinion began reciting then:  
  
"Star light, star bright,  
  
First star I see tonight,  
  
I wish I may, I wish I might,  
  
Have the wish I wish tonight."  
  
"A Wishing Star?" Voronwe said incredulously. "That is even less likely than a Star of Hope!"  
  
"Yet it works if the star you wish by is truly the first that you see that night. Cirdan says that Iluvatar himself granted this strange song to the Elves, for we are people of the Stars," Ereinion said with all due seriousness. "It has worked for me. You may not believe now, but when you despair, remember this moment and sing to the First Star."  
  
Voronwe looked up, but clouds stretched over the entire sky like a blanket. Voronwe smiled to Ereinion and said, "It seems I'll have to try to wish by the First Star next time."  
  
---  
  
When it seemed impossible to survive the violent storms of the Sea, I remembered the words of Ereinion. The dark clouds were thick, and I saw no stars, not a one. Then I remembered that Cirdan had before called Ereinion Gil-Galad, Star of Radiance. I clung desperately to my memory of the young prince and recited the prayer. I did not wish to reach Valinor as I'd set out to do. I no longer cared. I did not wish for the mercy of the Valar upon the Elves of Middle-earth. I wished only to see Gondolin once more. My ship broke apart then, and I fought against the waves that threatened to drown me. At last, I could fight no longer.  
  
But I awoke to the messenger of the Lord of the Waters, and Tuor spoke my name though he did not know me and bade me to lead him to the Hidden Kingdom. As we neared the Echoing Mountains, I wondered, can wishes come true? 


End file.
